


Puzzle Pieces

by notsodarling



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-29
Updated: 2012-08-29
Packaged: 2017-11-13 04:10:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/499320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsodarling/pseuds/notsodarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After it's all over, Stiles still has questions. Still wonders what he just witnessed happen in the warehouse. His mind is racing and he can't stop thinking about everything that has happened in the past few months, trying to piece it all together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puzzle Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> Because I am obsessed with this show. This takes place directly after the Season 2 finale in the warehouse.

            Stiles stares at the scratch on the hood of the Jeep from where the kanima had landed earlier. It’s deep enough that it’ll have to be buffed out and re-painted, which is annoying. There are other scratches, smaller and less noticeable, from the drive through the warehouse wall. Closing his eyes, Stiles tries to block out the voices of everyone else in the warehouse, mainly because the last thing he wants to deal with is listening to Lydia and Jackson. Doesn’t need Scott hovering and asking him if he’s okay. Doesn’t want to hear Derek try and explain what exactly just happened and how Lydia saved Jackson.

            He’s not stupid. Stiles has done all the research on werewolves and shape-shifters and lycanthropes. He’s practically an expert on the myths and legends surrounding the supernatural creatures that have invaded his life in the past few months. But just because he’s an expert doesn’t mean he wants to believe all of it. Stiles knows that he’s a pro in ignoring a problem until it goes away, and he’s totally fine with ignoring the reason Lydia was able to save Jackson.

            And if he’s also doing it to keep himself from admitting that he’s officially never going to have a chance with her, well, no one has to know. He can keep that secret to himself.

            “Stiles?” Scott calls out, quietly from where he’s still standing next to Allison, their hands still molded together. Stiles doesn’t know if he’s mad at Scott or not anymore, with all the shit that has happened in the past 24 hours. Mostly, he thinks he’s just happy that everyone is alive.

            “Just go, Scott. I’m fine,” Stiles replies, not really meaning it but needing Scott to believe it. He pretends to busy himself with inspecting a particularly deep scratch on the hood of the Jeep as everyone else piles into Chris Argent’s SUV. Lydia tries to call out to him, ask him if he wants a ride, but Stiles ignores her. It might be a bit childish of him, but he would rather not have to be around Jackson and Lydia more than necessary right now.

            He waits until the SUV is out of sight, the sound of the engine just a faint hum in the distance before letting out his frustration. Without really thinking, Stiles brings his fists down on the hood of the Jeep, full of all the anger he’s feeling in that moment. It’s stupid, because he should be _happy_ that Jackson is alive. That Lydia was able to even save him at all. His own problems are insignificant in the grand spectrum of things, but he’s alone and no one has to know how much it’s all affecting him.

            Except he’s not alone.

            It takes Stiles a moment to realize that Derek is still there, standing towards the back of the warehouse, speaking to Isaac in hushed voices. They’re facing away from Stiles, as if they’re getting ready to leave. Stiles doesn’t even bother looking around for Peter, even though he knows he’s probably around somewhere, lurking in the shadows. It had been a shock to see Peter Hale jumping out from his hiding place to help Derek attack Jackson. And if there’s one thing he and Derek are going to discuss it’s why Peter Hale, _who was supposed to be dead_ , was alive and now running around helping Derek.

            “Stiles?”

            It’s Derek asking this time, but Stiles ignores him, running a finger along the scratch in the hood of the Jeep again, pretending he’s inspecting it. He’s studied this particular scratch for so long now, he’s going to be seeing it in his sleep.

            “Stiles,” Derek tries again, except this time his voice is closer, and there’s an underlying growl with his name that makes Stiles turns around to face him, because Stiles is fine. They really, really don’t need to talk about anything that just happened. And the last person that should be asking Stiles if he’s okay is Derek-freaking-Hale, who seems to have the emotional range of a teaspoon on a good day.

            Taking a deep breath, Stiles turns around to face Derek. Isaac is nowhere to be seen, and Stiles really hopes that means he’s left the warehouse, and isn’t sticking around to listen with his super-wolf-hearing about what he and Derek are going to talk about. Stiles doesn’t even want to think about the possibility of Peter Hale lurking around still.

            “Peter Hale is alive.” Stiles tries to glare at Derek, to convey the anger he felt at seeing the older werewolf jump out of the darkness earlier. Because Stiles had thought, had believed that after setting Peter on fire, after watching Derek slash his throat, that they were done with him. He hadn’t expected to see him again, and he certainly didn’t expect it to look like Derek was working _with_ him. “We killed him. We _lit him on fire_. Why is he alive? How is he alive?”

            “Lydia-”

            Stiles cuts him off, and continues on his rant instead. “You slashed his throat! How else did you become the Alpha? Is there something I’m missing here where there are two Alphas now? Oh god, please don’t tell me your crazy uncle is an Alpha. I don’t want him thinking he can still run around demanding my help by smashing my face into things.”

            “He’s not an Alpha.”

            But Stiles doesn’t stop. He doesn’t think he can at this point, because his mind is racing a million miles a minute, and Derek is just standing there, staring at him. “Is it because we didn’t cut his body in half? Because that professor told me and Scott about that and- Holy shit! That professor! He’s got a picture of you! And your eyes! They weren’t- there was no lens flare! How does that even work?”

            Derek just stands there, staring at Stiles, waiting for him to finish his rant before he starts speaking. Stiles can’t actually stop, has too many questions to ask, needs to know too much about the things that have happened, about what Dr. Fenris had told them weeks ago but he’d obviously forgotten. The look on Derek’s face makes Stiles slap his hand over his mouth, in a lame attempt to make himself shut up. He’s not sure it will be effective at all, but Derek at least takes it as an invitation to talk.

            “Why do you look like a human punching bag?”

            The question completely throws Stiles, and he lets his hand drop from his mouth, because that is Derek Hale showing actual concern for Stiles. And Stiles is almost positive that has not only ever happened before, but that it will never happen again. At this point it’s like seeing a unicorn in the wild – Derek Hale is showing concern for someone else.

            “I’d rather you tell me about Peter Hale and how he’s apparently a zombie and why Lydia is even involved than discuss the stupid bruise on my face.”

            “ _Stiles._ ”

            And that’s a growl along with his name. Stiles isn’t too keen on getting thrown or pushed up against a hard surface at that moment, so he takes a deep breath because he’s sure Derek isn’t going to react well to what he’s about to hear.

            “After the lacrosse game, Gerard got his lackeys to kidnap me and take me to the Argent house. Threw me in the basement with Erica and Boyd,” and right there, Stiles stops. Glances up at Derek, even though there’s no emotion showing through on the Alpha’s face. “They were tied up, connected to some sort of electric current. I tried to get them out, but my fragile human ass couldn’t do a thing for them.”

            When Derek doesn’t give any indication of concern for the other werewolves, Stiles figures the most he can do is continue. He’s not sure what it means that Derek is demanding information on his betas, but Stiles is grateful because he really doesn’t have any other information to give. He’s not even sure if Erica and Boyd are even still alive.

            “This,” Stiles says, pointing to his face. To the bruise on his cheek that still stings, and the split lip that Stiles is sure is going to crack open the longer he talks. “It was meant to be a message to you and Scott. It was supposed to be a way to lure one of you to the house. I wasn’t sure what he was planning at the time, so I had no idea that he was going to have you _bite him_.” Stiles pauses, because he needs to. Needs to just, stop for a moment and make sure that Derek is still listening. “Afterward, he let me go. And I went home, didn’t tell anyone what happened. Ignored two dozen texts from Scott because I knew what would happen if I did, and I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t let him go after Gerard like that. So I stayed home, feeling sorry for myself and my weak human ass.”

            And there’s a look on Derek’s face, one that Stile is positive he’s only seen once or twice before, if ever. Because Derek does not show concern, he does not have emotions. And he certainly does not show them to other people.

            “You’re gonna get yourself killed that way,” Derek says, and Stiles has no idea what he’s talking about. Stiles didn’t ask to get kidnapped. He’d just been playing lacrosse _like a normal high school kid_ when the psycho geriatric werewolf-hunter principal decided to throw him in the basement of his son’s house and beat him up. It takes Stiles a moment to realize that Derek isn’t referring to just this instance, but everything that’s happened to Stiles in the past few months. “You’re still human, Stiles.”

            “As if that could ever escape my attention!” Feeling particularly brave, or maybe just particularly stupid, Stiles steps into Derek’s space, as if he’s challenging him. It’s probably not one of Stiles’ smartest ideas, but he’s really at wits end tonight, and would like to get this conversation over as fast as possible. “You know, Peter offered me the Bite.”

            The slight raise in Derek’s eyebrows does not escape Stiles’ notice.

            “Obviously I refused, Sour Wolf.” Stiles rolls his eyes, because he needs some humor right now. Needs it to ground him, before he gets back on his tirade of yelling at Derek for answers. “I have no desire, _whatsoever_ , to be like you and Scott. I’ve seen and been around enough supernatural in the past couple months to last me the rest of my life!”

            He doesn’t mean to insult Derek. Really, it’s the last thing on his mind, but Stiles has already thought long and hard about what would happen if he ever accepted the Bite. After watching what happened to Scott, what happened to Jackson, _what happened to Lydia_ , Stiles is perfectly happy being human. Sure, he hates that it makes him weak, that it makes him vulnerable, but he can’t imagine ever giving up his humanity just for some added strength.

            “How does it work?” Stiles asks, not really being clear and has to backtrack when Derek glares at him. Again. “Before you were an Alpha, you were a Beta. But you had blue eyes. And Scott, he’s a beta too. But his eyes, they were yellow. How does that even work? And Jackson! His eyes were blue! I mean, if Jackson’s eyes had been yellow I would have just assumed it was because those mean a bitten werewolf, right? Because all your little minions – Boyd, Eric and Isaac, they’ve got yellow eyes, don’t they?”

            “It’s a way to distinguish between born werewolves and bitten ones. Same way the red eyes indicate an Alpha.”

            Things start to click into place in Stiles’ head, the more information Derek gives him. But there’s just something that doesn’t fit-

            “But you bit Jackson! You gave him the Bite!”

            Derek is frowning, and Stiles wants to mock the deep “v” of his eyebrows, but he keeps his mouth shut. Because obviously, Derek hasn’t really given this a whole lot of thought either. Is probably just mostly happy that Jackson is even alive right now, after practically gutting him with his claws. Stiles realizes that Jackson isn’t going to give him the confirmation on Jackson, because even Derek is trying to fit the pieces together.

            “Jackson’s like you, isn’t he?” Stiles asks, his voice suddenly quieter than it’s been this whole time. “His parents were like you. They were… the accident? The car accident? It was someone going after them, wasn’t it?”

            “I don’t know.”

            Stiles is taken aback by Derek’s admission, because he doesn’t remember ever hearing Derek Hale say he didn’t know something. Hidden the truth? Sure, but never flat out that he didn’t know. Stiles also isn’t sure why he’d just assumed Derek would know. There couldn’t have been that many werewolves living in Beacon Hills, right? Wouldn’t werewolves just… be aware of others living nearby? Stiles makes a mental note to try and research that later, when he’s back home. If he gets home and even decides he wants to know. Because right now, he’s getting pretty close to giving up completely on all this supernatural shit.

            “Go home, Stiles.”

            Stiles nods in agreement, because it’s late and his dad is probably wondering where he is. Only knows that Stiles ran out of the house telling him something about going after Lydia. His dad has no idea where Stiles was really going, and Stiles hates it. Hates lying to his father about all of this, not being able to tell him what’s really going on. Still has trouble letting go of that night at the police station, the toxin from the kanima preventing Stiles from moving, from getting to his father. Having to watch Matt, the psycho, knock his father out cold and Stiles, crawling on the floor and unable to do anything. That’s the image he keeps going back to now, and it’s the one thing that makes Stiles hate Derek, hate Scott, hate everything their lives have become over the past few months.

            But Stiles keeps all that inside. Hasn’t talked to Scott about it because he knows Scott is too wrapped up in his own problems, _in Allison_ , to even notice that Stiles is drowning. That talk with the guidance counselor had done nothing except make things worse. She’d probably given Stiles the one piece of advice he didn’t need to hear, because Stiles will always, _always_ , keep fighting. Even when he’s broken, bruised and knocked down, Stiles will put his friends, his family, in front of himself and fight for them. He knows this about himself, has accepted that’s the kind of person he is. Has done a mostly good job at keeping it to himself, except for his freak out at Lydia.

            Derek is still standing there, waiting for Stiles to leave. But there’s one more thing, one thing that Stiles has to say before he gets in the Jeep and drives away. He’s not scared of Derek anymore, especially since he’s seen Derek willingly save his life more than once now. Stiles is almost positive it’s because of Scott, because Derek needs Scott to trust him in a way that Derek doesn’t trust anyone, and that would never happen if something happened to Stiles. And if there is one thing that Stiles has learned in the short time he’s known Derek, it’s that Derek doesn’t trust anyone.

            “Don’t trust Peter,” Stiles says, opening the door to the jeep.  It’s not something he needs to tell Derek, but Stiles feels like the reminder wouldn’t hurt. Because something had happened that made Derek listen to Peter, and Stiles didn’t like that. Didn’t like how it left Derek open and vulnerable even if the Alpha didn’t think so. Even if Peter wasn’t an Alpha, it didn’t mean he couldn’t cause damage. Stiles thought of Derek’s tattoo, and how it symbolized the three types of werewolves and how they could each rise and fall. “I know he’s your uncle, but you can’t trust him.”

            Derek growls in response, and that’s all Stiles needs to slam the door of the jeep closed. The key is still in the ignition, and the hum of the engine manages to calm Stiles down after the events of the evening.

            As he drives the jeep out of the warehouse, Stiles can only hope that Derek listens to him and keeps Peter at arms length. Because Stiles still isn’t clear on the how or the why of Peter’s return, but he does know that trusting Peter Hale will only put them back at square one.


End file.
